Annual Reunion
by Misty H
Summary: Heero meets up with someone of his past.


I definitely don't own Gundam Wing or Ronin Warriors. And I don't even dream about making money from my story. I save my dreams for something more...uni-bang-ish. ^_^;  
  
Annual Reunion  
By Misty Hashiba  
January 21, 2001  
  
He crouched in a dingy corner of the darkened bar/dance club. The music was loud, painfully so thanks to his super-sensitized hearing. His dark, storm-clouded blue eyes watched the crowd with a blank expression, keeping an eye out for more bouncers. They would be able to tell in just one look that he didn't belong here. Once again he cursed his shortness, wishing his companion would just hurry up and arrive. Though that would be near impossible. The other boy was always slightly late, probably due to overprotective team members and various gangs that once knew him. His visitor was a very popular fellow, and refused to get cold-hearted with anyone. He was a master fighter, and a superior leader, which would be why most of the street kids knew and respected him. Didn't seem to matter to any of them that they were the ones who raised the boy; he had earned his way in a rough life.  
  
The shadowed figure shifted, seeing a dark flash in the opposite corner. His eyes narrowed into slits. Being awfully risky tonight, he decided. But considering how late his 'friend' was, he probably felt he needed to risk it. Can't those insufferable idiots he hangs around with feel the spark of power when he teleports? But he would save that question for later, when conversation would dwindle down to soccer scores and how fast each could through a punch when surprised. Not that he was surprised much anymore. He doubted the other was either. They had just been through too much, seen too many deaths, killed too many and held innocent victims as they bled their souls into the unforgiving earth. Shimatta, stop thinking like that.  
  
"Hey, dude!" said the other boy as he slipped easily into the seat. They examined each other in drawn out silence, witnessing for themselves the changes that had taken place over the last year. "Your hair's more wild than ever. Don't you even bother to brush it?" the newcomer finally said with a warm smirk.  
  
Heero snorted. "Like you have any room to talk." Ryo reached up a dark hand and pushed the unruly curls away from his face. They fell right back in place. The black strands were pointedly ignored. Ryo reached across the table, grasping the other's hand in his warmly.  
  
"It's good to see you're alive," he said simply. Heero nodded shortly, feeling a knot form in his throat. But he wouldn't cry now, only when he was safely away from everyone, stranger or friend. He was not about to ruin the reunion with bitter tears. He couldn't cry. Perfect Soldiers don't cry.  
  
Ryo seemed to pick up on his lack of response, because he held the hand in his more firmly and sent a glare across the small booth that could never come close to Heero's Glare of Death (tm). "Don't start pulling that crap on me. You aren't with that bastard J, you aren't smashing things to smithereens, you aren't committing suicide, and you aren't around those kids who claim to be your friends. So don't pretend that you can't feel, because you know that I know way better than that."  
  
In the face of being glared to death by someone who couldn't even do it properly when he wasn't angry, Heero decided to surrender. It would at least allow him to laugh in the other boy's face, if nothing else. So he allowed his humanity to surface, and nearly choked as he let out his mirth. "You would think that you had picked up on the death stare a few years back, Ryo."  
  
The dark Japanese cracked his lips in a wry smile. "Well, Anubis though it was slightly intimidating. Though it took hours to drag that much of a confession out of him. So, how goes your side of the war?"  
  
The change of topic brought about an immediate change of expression and body language. Both boys straightened in their seats, with an air of seriousness around them that seemed beyond their young age. Too bad they had never known true relaxation and childhood.  
  
"We're at a stalemate. And, by L1, I can swear to you that I hate it beyond belief. Did you bring the drinks?" He leaned back in his chair and observed silently as Ryo pulled up a small canvas bag.  
  
"You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get these." Tiger blue eyes twinkled as he pulled out a bottle of saki and two glasses. "Guess I was right then. There would be no way we would be able to get drinks here. Too risky." He poured the pilot a full cup and himself only half. At the inquiring look, he rolled his eyes. "As you have repeatedly told me, I'm a Boy Scout remember? I'm not even coming close to getting wasted tonight. I still can't believe that you managed to get me drunk last year."  
  
Heero shrugged. "Wasn't that hard. You aren't used to drinking that heavy, and all I had to do was distract you. I'm just amazed you didn't notice that your glass never seemed to lose the liquid." Ryo blushed and settled back in he worn padding as he waited for his tablemate to continue. It took a few moments, but he finally did.  
  
"OZ is waiting us out. They don't seem to grieve for their dead. They just keep sending in more and more young men who've barely been out of school long enough to figure out how to make their beds in camp. And I keep right on killing them. There was a battle yesterday, you know. Over 200 casualties, due to the Gundam pilots. I came early. I just couldn't sit there and watch Quatre grieve and Wufei practice with his katana because he didn't know how else to express himself and his anger over what he did. Duo was smiling that false smile again all day, and Trowa sat reading his book upside down. I knew that staying would only force me to show compassion. I had to get away."  
  
Both sat in absolute silence, the music changing into something sadder, sweeter. Couples moved together on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around one another. Ryo reflected darkly on what had just been said. He wished that he could take the place of his companion, just for one day, so that the young boy would be free for just twenty-four hours. But it wouldn't happen. They had their own wars to fight.  
  
"And how goes the never-ending battle against the supernatural?" Heero finally asked. He had been watching the news, and knew certain armor-wearing people had appeared more than once this week. He had also heard of the murders, and knew that Ryo and his little crew had probably witnessed more than either wanted to think about. Ryo sighed softly, scrubbing his face harshly with his hand.  
  
"They killed them," he whispered softly. Only for Heero would he confess this much. He wouldn't put pressure on his friends to have them deal with his grief and theirs too while they fought. He would be a burden to no one. He lived by that motto. "A father and his little son. It hurt, Heero. 'Give up your foolish resistance or we kill these two,' the soldier said. I disarmed myself. The guys weren't there. It was just the four of us. And I thought it would be okay. I always think it's gonna be okay. But he just grinned at me, and slaughtered them. The father first, because he jumped in front of the blade meant for the boy. And they were screaming so loud. The--the boy, he had black hair. He reminded me of when Dad died. I could see myself in him. I was screaming too; there was so much blood. Next thing I know, I jumped the soldier. I had cast away my armor, and was going after him as a human. They had to save me again. I was covered in the blood and brains of the little child and his dad by the time I was done. But I killed the SOB that did it.  
  
"Just last week I held a little girl as she bled to death in my arms. All because I thought it was going to be okay. What kind of person does that make me, Heero? I practically signed the order for her death because I assumed it would work out. Rowan and Sage still can't get a lock on whoever is doing this. The soldiers are from the Netherrealm, but we can't find anything from there. I just don't understand...what the hell is happening to all of us?"  
  
Heero pondered the statement, knowing that any sympathy would only bring out more guilt. He aimed for helpful instead. "Could it be from this world? You've checked the various realms that you five keep your eyes on. What about on the home front? The enemy could be living on your doorstep and you haven't realized it yet."  
  
Tiger blue eyes narrowed in speculation. "Considering how often the attacks are and how much energy it takes to open a Gateway, that would be the most likely choice the enemy would have. Rowan would be able to confirm it, but I would bet my kanji ball on you. Too bad you're not on my team."  
  
Another smirk. "Yeah. But I was born to lead, and you would get shoved aside if I showed up."  
  
Ryo grinned playfully. "Must be your charming personality."  
  
"Must be. Are you having any luck with Girl-Horror?" Wildfire laughed loudly. It went unnoticed by everyone within hearing distance, most likely because there was no hearing distance in the uproar.  
  
"No, Mia still thinks that I'm her one and only, and nothing I say seems to convince her otherwise. I mean, I'm only 15! I don't need that sort of commitment. She's already 19. Way to old for me. Unfortunately she doesn't see it that way. What about you? I'm surprised the Pepto-Bismol (tm) Mobile hasn't shown up yet."  
  
Heero scowled darkly. "She's a stalker. A terrorist! People like her shouldn't be allowed to think coherently. I'm certain she's seeing pink party favors for a wedding. And, unlike you, both of us are 15. She's a lunatic!" He took a swig of the alcohol from his glass and glowered at the countertop. Ryo was doing his best to look sympathetic and understanding, but mirth made his eyes sparkle with endless humor. Heero caught the gaze and held it, wanting to remember the way this other boy could go through so much and still retain a sense of humanity. It warmed his heart, somehow.  
  
"I'm glad you haven't lost that," he said quietly. The other boy looked at him, his emotions flying across his face. The pilot read compassion, and understanding, loyalty, sorrow and worry, and finally love.  
  
"You haven't lost it either, Heero. You just bury everything down too deep to find. I know that little boy I used to play with is still in there, just waiting to dump some earthworms down the front of my pants again. You've just got to find him."  
  
The brown mop of hair moved in denial. "I don't even know how you remember all that. We must've been only two or three then..." his voice trailed off as he noticed his companion still and pale. Glancing worriedly around for any signs of soldiers, Dynasty or OZ, he leaned towards Ryo and snapped his fingers once, twice, then pinched the warrior's hand. That brought him out of the haze. His blue eyes, a few shades lighter than Heero's, blinked in confusion. Suddenly they sharpened and narrowed.  
  
"We've got an attack, Heero. I've got to go. Rowan has been injured," he stated breathlessly as he scanned for a safe place to teleport from. Knowing that his time was lost, Heero stood and waited for the other to do the same. They grasped hands, but soon clung together in a fierce hug. "Take care, Heero. I want to see you again next year in one piece, and I want an extra two hours for the time we've missed."  
  
Heero could feel the hot pricks of what he suspected might be tears, and held on determinably. His one link to being a normal person, to be whole, was leaving, and there was nothing he could do to make him stay.  
  
"You be careful too. And remember what I said about the attacks. Now go. Your friends need you!" With that, he shoved the other boy in a corner, and watched as helplessness enveloped Ryo's features before he flashed a bright red color and disappeared as quickly as he had come. He let the tears fall then, only a few, not wanting to waste all of them in a place such as this. Gathering up the bottle of saki and the two cups, he left the bar and strode in the cold air. In the distance there was a sound of metal hitting metal, and the screaming of innocent people. He knew that was where Ryo was.  
  
"Bye, brother. Until next year, then," he whispered into the air, blocking out images of Ryo being killed in battle. Over the bond he shared with the other boy, he felt a wave of reassurance and encouragement. He could almost hear the whispered words in his mind.  
  
Until next year, my twin...  



End file.
